#and only partially on behalf of their parents)

[teaboot]

You dont have to answer it. Im just kind of venting because nobody understands or listens to what im saying.

You mentioned financial abuse and women not being allowed bank accounts even though they could work. Every time someone brings this up it feels so similar to my own situation it pisses me off.

I'm a minor. I *do* have a bank account but i can only use it in a physical store and not online or anything because my darling mother thinks it's unnecessary. She says that i can just ask one of them to buy things for me. Even tho there have been times where i have to call her a million times to just buy me a train ticket to get me home. She asks if i have secrets if i want to use my money so much.

It's not about that. It's not about trust, it's not about secrets. It's about independence. Bitch, i will become an adult soon enough, will you stoll treat me the same way? It's about her trust in me. I am a prisoner as it is why does she have to rub it in. I know i'm not a person until i'm 18 i KNOW but like. I'm only living off of permissions and allowances. I can't fucking donate to palestinians because "there is no reason for that" and then i ask her to do and she says she will but DOESN'T. I couldn't buy a bknder i had to have someone else do it.

Oh, let me be clear, you ARE a person NOW. That is incredibly unfair.

If you are old enough and responsible enough to work and earn a paycheck, you’re old enough to spend your money.

I used to fight CONSTANTLY for this sort of thing. Adult responsibilities, child privileges. Do the labour, reap none of the benefits. FUCK that.

And, frankly, you ARE going to make a few dumb financial decisions at some point in your life. The IDEA is that you do it while you’re young and have your family as a safety net in case it’s too big or you fuck up TOO bad and need help- no school lunch money cause you bought games? You won’t go hungry, but you WILL pack a sandwich from home. Baby steps.

Or, what, you’re supposed to go from zero to 100 the day you move out? How the HELL are you going to just *spontaneously develop* the ability to balance a check book, budget, save, prioritize your expenses?

You absolutely have the right of it, one hundred percent. There will come a time when your mother has to let go, but what you are describing is ABSOLUTELY financial abuse and is her way of exercising control over you and denying you privacy.

I do have to ask though, how does your workplace pay you out? Is it possible to request a partial payment in cash? That way, you can have a little on hand in case you need it.

Also… I’m not sure where you live, but if you can, consider maybe stopping by that bank at some point and book in a consult with an advisor. Ask if there’s any way of locking your mother out or getting online banking together for yourself. If she’s the one handling your finances and giving you no access, I wouldn’t trust what she says in regards to what you can do without her.

And if it comes up… this isn’t just a matter of trust, it’s a matter of respect. Or, what, they think you’re stupid? They think you’re a secret drug dealer handling dirty money? What? What POSSIBLE reason could they have for keeping you from spending your own money, unless they think you’re a dumb irresponsible kid, and if that’s the truth, why let you have a job at all? Why not lock you in a tower for the rest of your life? Why let you go to school, if they’re going to be caring for you like a sickly Victorian waif forever? Or do they think you’re so fragile that making a mistake will cause you to crumble forever, like you’re not smart or determined or tough enough to survive a few monetary hiccups in life?

Sorry, Jesus, I’m angry on your behalf. My parents sucked sometimes but financial independence wasn’t something they fucked around with, that’s some feudal lord ass shit right there

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

John the Apostle | While Out On The Water | Romantic

When John takes you out to teach you how to fish, something unexpected happens.

Requested by Chosengirl (Patreon)

“Is this really a good idea?” your sister Abigail gives you a terrified once-over as she looks at your outfit, a newly purchased tunic that you had bought only a few hours ago. You tuck your (h/c) hair under the matching veil that you had gotten with it for a discount and let two strands of it fall down your temples, curling them a little between your fingers to appear more playful. As you look at yourself in the mirror, you find Abigail sitting on your bed right behind you, her eyes on yours, genuine concern on her features, “That outfit will not exactly be waterproof. You’ll sink to the bottom before you can even realise what is going on!” 

You let out a huff of laughter at the wavering in her voice. “Oh, Abi,” you sigh, turning towards her. “I won’t fall into the water, don’t you worry!”

“What if he accidentally hits a rock or something… Or a sandbank! And it causes a hole to come into the boat and it sinks… What then? You can’t swim, (Y/n)! Please, reconsider if this is a wise thing to do!” 

Stepping closer, you reach out for her to take your hands into her own, and she squeezes you tightly as if you’re about to do the most dangerous thing you have ever done. “Abigail,” you muse, smiling softly at her as you gently touch her cheek. “I appreciate the concern, I truly do. But please… John knows what he is doing, and if anything happens, I’m sure that he is able to rescue me. He is a professional, you know?” 

Abigail swallows hard. “But you are surrounded by such large amounts of water… If you’re in the middle of the lake, you’ll never make it back to the shore in time!” Her personal fear of water was well-grounded due to a near-death experience during her youth, but it didn’t apply to you. With a soft smile, you look at your younger sister as you pull her to her feet. She is a little taller than you now, having outgrown you during puberty, even though she is three years your junior. 

You embrace her, smiling as you hold her close. The smell that clings to her clothes reminds you of your childhood, and for a moment, you are almost nostalgic and a little homesick, even though there is no betrothal in sight just yet. Part of you is glad that there isn’t— If there was, you would not have been allowed by your parents to go on such an outing with the son of Zebedee.

Your mother is suspecting that it might be a date, especially when observing the lightness you carry yourself with these days, obvious adoration flickering in your gaze whenever John is the topic of conversation, but your father is still oblivious to your crush. Abigail, however, knows everything about it, having heard you out time and time again as you went on your endless ramblings about the man you are so desperately in love with. 

Abigail could be thoroughly trusted to keep that secret, even if she is terrified on your behalf that you are going out on the Sea of Galilee with no more protection around you than a few planks. 

“Believe me,” you whisper, “Everything will be alright. If it will make you feel any better, I will be back before dark, so feel free to wait for me so we can talk about it, okay?” 

Your sister lets out a shaky breath and nods. Your words seem to partially reassure her, but the worry isn’t entirely gone from her eyes just yet. When your mother suddenly appears on the threshold, she unwittingly cuts your conversation short. “Someone is here for you, (Y/n),” she states, giving you a once-over. The raising of her brow makes your heart tighten inside your chest as you sincerely hope that she will not protest your planned outing with John. Neither of you have called it a date, so you hope that she won’t consider it one. Relief floods it as she drops it; for now. 

Squeezing Abigails hands, you give her a reassuring smile that she mirrors with a wary one of her own. You know that she will be waiting for your return with bated breath, but you cannot get it out of her head now. “Have fun,” she muses, moving over to your bedroom window, undoubtedly to watch you and John walk off in a minute from now. 

“Thank you, I’ll see you later, okay? Try not to worry too much!” You head downstairs and find John standing in the small hallway of your parents’ house. The moment he hears your footsteps, he looks up to find you descending the stairs and his heart swells inside his chest at the sight of you. The colour you are wearing matches wonderfully with your eyes, but he doesn’t say that out loud.

“Shalom!” you muse, smiling as you halt in front of him, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. “How are you doing today?” 

He clears his throat. “Uh, shalom shalom. I’m doing well, and how about yourself?” 

Grabbing your cloak against the cold, you put it on as you answer him: “I’m doing great, thank you.” 

He hums and nods outside. “Shall we, then?” he offers, and you gladly join him, bidding your parents goodbye before stepping over the threshold. The weather is nice enough, with occasional clouds drifting through the sky and blocking the sun, but at least there is no sign of upcoming rain. With a spring in your step, you walk next to John as you head for the lake on the other side of the village, feeling Abigail watching you two from the windows. For a moment, you look over your shoulder to face her, and she quickly averts her gaze. You smile a bit. 

“So, are you excited to learn how to fish?” John breaks the tension. You hum and nod eagerly, wiping your clammy palms on your tunic. 

“I am,” you say, “I’ve actually never fished before. It seems so complicated, you know? When you have to take into consideration the weather, the amount of sunlight, the time of day… And I’d personally tangle these nets all the time, you know? I don’t know how you do it, but it’s impressive.” 

John huffs a soft laugh and blushes at the compliment. “Ah, well, it’s not that difficult once you get the hang of it. Then again, I was raised into it, for I’ve been going with my abba onto the water ever since my early teens, so perhaps I’ve got no right to speak on that. Today, we aren’t going to fish with nets, but with a rod.” 

You give him a surprised look. “Alright… Is it, like, easier than with a net?”

John shrugs. “I mean… I’m less proficient with it since it requires a different technique, but fishing with nets requires some physical strength that you… Well…” He gulps hard as he gives you a sidelong glance, suddenly afraid that he might have offended you. “Not that I’m calling you weak or anything—”

Chuckling, you look away and shake your head. “I didn’t interpret it that way, John. Thank you for your consideration, though. I do indeed not have the muscle that you and your family have.” You pretend to flex your barely-existent biceps, causing John to laugh at the sight, relieved that he didn’t insult you. 

The two of you walk down to the docks, where the boat is already waiting for you. John steps inside first, making sure that it is secure before reaching out his hand. With slight nervousness that begins to grow inside your chest now that the outing is truly beginning, you take it, noticing how warm his touch is. You step inside the vessel and he steadies you, helping you find your balance before releasing you in order to push the boat away from the shore. 

“You might want to sit down for this,” the younger son of Zebedee tells you as he unties the rope, and you are glad that he warned you, for the boat jolts from side to side at the force from how he pushes it off. Once afloat, John grabs an oar and begins paddling you away from the harbour. 

You inhale the scent of the fresh air and sigh, smiling as the few rays of sun that manage to seep through the clouds fall over your face. John observes you for a moment, fondly smiling at the peaceful expression that tugs your lips upwards. “This is wonderful, John,” you muse, “Thank you for bringing me here today.” 

“Well,” he says with a grin, “You were very insistent about learning how to fish.” He blushes a bit, “Not that you’re a burden or something. I’m glad I could take you here— I mean—” He clears his throat when you cast a glance over your shoulder to look at him as he leads the boat to drift towards the centre of the lake. The wind subtly plays with his curls and makes him look gentler. “I’m happy you’re here.” 

The smile you give him makes his heart soar. You carefully turn in the boat to face him. “Me, too,” you admit, even though neither of your have named this outing what it is out loud yet— A date. John puts the oar back into the vessel and tucks it away to his best ability before standing up. He’s definitely got decent sea-legs, which you watch in awe as he effortlessly traverses the boat in spite of how much it rocks left and right. 

“Are you ready?” he muses as he grabs a long pole from the floor of the sloop and untangles the thin line that hangs from the side. A rusty hook sits at the end of it and he makes sure to not accidentally let it snatch either of you. You give him a small smile and nod, eagerly scooting to the side of the boat. It tips a little to the side at the sudden shift of weight, causing you to grip the side of the wood until your knuckles turn white. 

Finding your reaction adorable, John chuckles softly and takes a seat right behind you. “Is this alright?” he wonders out loud, his unexpected proximity causing you to heavily flush. 

“Uh, yes,” you stutter, “This is— This is nice.” He smiles, holding the fishing rod in his hand as he reaches around you with the other to steady it. The setting is quite intimate for two people who haven’t yet been brave enough to call this a date yet. 

“Just uh…” His earlier bold movements fade like snow in a scorching sun as John realises how close he is actually sitting to you, and how his arms circle your waist as he holds onto the fishing rod tightly. The light perfume you’re wearing tingles in his nose in the best way possible and it takes every fibre of his being to not close his eyes to deeply inhale your scent. “Put your hands underneath mine.” The request is more audacious than he’s feeling inside. “So that I can lead your movements.” 

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you sincerely hope your heart won’t give out. You carefully release the edge of the boat, wipe your clammy palms dry on your dress, and put your hands under John’s. He adjusts his position a bit, tucking your fingers into the right places on the rod so that you’re holding it in a proper way, although he is holding most of the weight, and both of you let out shaky breaths in unison. You can feel his breath fall against the crook of your neck. Had either of your parents seen this, they would not have approved. At least, not without a wedding, first. 

“I forgot the bait,” John suddenly whispers, scolding himself mentally as he lifts the line from the water. He carefully moves it towards the two of you, taking the rusty hook and finding a chunk of stale bread. “We usually have worms for this, but…” The expression that crosses your face makes John glad that he didn’t bring one of these with him right now, “…Bread sometimes works, too.”

Nodding, you watch how he helps you dip the line back into the water. You observe the bobbing of the line underneath the waves, occasionally feeling a little tug, but nothing that is strong enough to indicate that you’ve caught something. It is difficult to concentrate with John’s warm hands covering yours, larger and rougher than your own. The feeling is safe and secure, and you dread the moment that he has to let go. 

The initial nervousness and tension between you two fades away into a comfortable silence as you sit there, waiting for any fish to take the bait. “You know,” you murmur, “My little sister was afraid that I might fall into the water at some point, or that the boat might sink.” 

John chuckles, a sound that reverberates through your mind. “That won’t happen,” he reassures you, softly smiling. “And if anything goes wrong, I’d be here to save you, right?” 

You hum a laugh, trusting him with that indeed. The line bobs under, drawing your focus back to the fishing. There is a firmer tug, and John tightens his grip over yours. “Steady, now.” 

With bated breath, you feel the tug on the rod, John answering with counter-force by pulling it upwards slightly. “Easy… Easy…” he rumbles into your ear, clearly trying for the fish to fully latch on. “Wait for it…” 

Then, the vessel lurches to the side violently, the rod being ripped from your grip before you can even comprehend what is going on. John gasps as the two of you tumble to the side of the sloop, pulled that way rather roughly as he catches himself on the side of the boat, trapping you against it. The rod is dragged into the water, soon sinking to the bottom with little chance to recover it. 

“What was—” 

Your voice hitches as you realise how close John is sitting when you tilt your head to look at him. The younger son of Zebedee is observing you intently, not moving to get away from you in the slightest, his eyes searching your face. You find specks of light in his hazel irises and you gulp hard, your heart beginning to beat faster. 

When your tongue instinctively flicks over your lips, his gaze falls down to look at them for a split second. If you had blinked, you could have missed it, but his intentions are clear in spite of how short the action was. Upon seeing you lean a little closer to him, John instantly takes his chance.

He pushes his mouth against yours in a soft, gentle kiss, your eyes falling shut the moment he does so. You can hear your blood rush inside your ears as his lips move over yours in an attempt to figure out how this works; although the inexperience is obvious from the way he gently cradles your face and his mouth moves rather stiffly against your own, the sensation sends butterflies through your system. This is your first kiss, too, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. 

Breathless, John pulls away so slightly that his lips still rest against yours. As your rapid breaths mingle and waft against your cheeks, a smile begins to form on your features. “That was… What I wanted.” 

“Me, too,” John whispers, closing his eyes to kiss you again, a gesture you happily answer. 

You sit like that for a while. Chastely exploring these first moments of intimacy in your relationship, the herald of many kisses to come. John knows he can no longer hold it off, now; that need to ask for your father’s blessing, that he now must make you his wife, because he doesn’t want anyone else but you.

This had been a long time coming. 

The sun is already lowering by the time you pull apart, both of you blushing, your lips slightly swollen from the kiss, and you give a gentle smile. “You have no idea for how long I’ve wanted to do that,” John admits sheepishly and you grin from ear to ear, gazing up at him with fond eyes. 

“I’m glad that you came around then, because I have wanted that since forever, too.” 

For a few long beats, you look at one another. Softly, John sighs and turns his gaze to your environment. “Perhaps we should go back home,” he says, to which you agree although you’d rather have for this outing to never end. 

“Before my sister gets scared that something may have happened to us.” 

John chuckles. “Well, I lost my fishing rod. The fish was way too strong for us to reel it in, huh?” 

“I’m sorry about that…” you sigh. John shrugs. 

“I’ll get myself a new one. Besides, if that fish didn’t just steal it, I don’t think I’d have gathered enough courage to kiss you. If anything, I’m grateful for it.” 

At that, you cannot help but laugh. 

“Sit next to me as I get us back to the village?” John softly asks, and you nod. 

“I would like that a lot,” you whisper, allowing him to help you up and sit in close proximity as he begins to take the boat through the water, back towards the docks. The lowering sun disappears behind the clouds, causing you to snuggle a bit closer to him, which John doesn’t mind in the slightest. 

This trip has been both refreshing and clarifying, even though purchasing a new fishing rod is in order. 

[themenendezbrothers]

Lyle and Erik in their own words.

(partial transcript)

source: Netflix Menendez Brothers Documentary

ERIK MENENDEZ: I went to Dr. Oziel because I really wanted to kill myself. I told him that I was responsible. His response was to have Lyle come in.

LYLE MENEDEZ: He wanted one tape in which, at some point on tape, he told us "You guys, say you killed your parents." It wasn't like he was like, "Oh this is terrible" let me help you guys, and then we work through this in a confidential way. That's what a normal therapist would do. Dr. Oziel was right into blackmail. I was angry with Erik in the moment because I just couldn't believe he would think Dr. Oziel was a trustworthy figure. My father refused to hire Dr. Oziel unless he signed a document saying that everything that Erik told him he would relay to my father. And Dr. Oziel signed a document to that effect. My father chose this sleazy psychologist because it was the only psychologist who would be willing to waive confidentiality so his son couldn't actually confide in the doctor.

LYLE MENEDEZ: No. I never threatened Dr. Oziel. I don't go around threatening people. I had never had an act of violence in my life until my parents' shootings. I mean obviously, he wasn't feeling that threatened. He didn't go to the police and say I feel threatened. He knew that he could. He chose not to.

ERIK MENENDEZ: Lyle wrote me this emotional letter when I was in the county jail. Lyle couldn't express what he did in that letter in person. It was easier for him to put it on paper. He felt that telling the sick secrets of the family would be like killing my parents again. And he did not want to do it.

"I REFUSE TO GIVE UP. HE IS WATCHING AND I WILL NOT DISAPPOINT HIM. WE DID NOT DO ANYTHING FOR THE MONEY."

LYLE MENENDEZ: Ultimately it became clear that, particularly after they found that jail letter and there was no way around saying what happened. Because they had that note, they had a confession that we were responsible for my parents' deaths.

ERIK MENENDEZ: I was supposed to destroy that letter. But it was a precious letter to me. It was one of those moments where Lyle was really expressing his own pain. And I, I didn't want to just throw it away. Because that didn't happen often between us.

As a result of them finding this letter in the summer of 1990. We now had to confess to everyone. And having them have to relive not just my parents' deaths, but now knowing that we were responsible, was, heartbreaking. And really, a tragically painful conversation. I just said, I'm sorry. I'm so, so so sorry. I will understand if you no longer love me and no longer want me in your life. "WE ALONE KNOW THE TRUTH"

LYLE MENENDEZ: Was just very tragic for me personally. That something that I was doing to try to keep a secret for coming out - was the reason Erik my brother then said and, and Leslie… well now you have to. Your obsession with keeping this thing secret caused you to write this thing that the prosecution have got their hands on and now you have to tell why. I remember pleading with my brother not to let Leslie Abramson take him down that road.

ERIK MENENDEZ: Leslie was an extremely smart and wise woman. She knew that we were keeping really horrible secrets. And, I needed to get to an emotional space where I could talk about what happened.

ERIK MENENDEZ: When I first met Dr. Vicary, I saw him as another Dr. Oziel. I didn't know who to trust. And I had my brother telling me "Don't trust any of them."

LYLE MENENDEZ: I would much rather lose the murder trial than talk about our past and what had happened.

LYLE MENENDEZ: People who have such small contact with my father saying "this was the most intimidating worst human I've met in my whole life." So thats why there was zero character witnesses on my parents' behalf. Why couldn't you find that one person? Because they don't exist.'

LYLE MENEDEZ: You know, the sports parent to some degree is a classical thing. But my father took it really to an extraordinary level. Because by the time I was eleven, he had decided that I needed to focus on Tennis. My father's strong belief was it would weaken my game to play a weaker player. I would not play with Erik. So Erik was weaker. Now Erik could train and play with me and get better but my father really didn't care about that.

ERIK MENENDEZ: He loved us but he believed that love needed to be earned. So, to be loved by him, we had to be worthy of that love and often that meant going through pain.

ERIK MENENDEZ: One of the misconceptions is that I did not love my father or love my mother. Uh, That is the farthest thing from the truth. I miss my mother tremendously. I wish that I could go back and talk to her. And give her a hug and tell her I love her and I wanted her to love me and be happy with me, and be happy that I was her son. And feel that joy and that connection. And I just want that. It's more difficult with my father. To me, as a boy, he was more than just a man. He was like the modern version of an ancient Greek God. He was different than any man I had ever met. And I simply idolized him. I wanted to be like him. But he was rarely a dad.

ERIK MENENDEZ: In time, Dr. Vicary revealed himself to be a kind compassionate gentle person. Letting me sit in silence until I felt safe enough to speak. It was Dr. Vicary.

And Dr. Burgess that I ended up slowly just coming clean and, telling everything that happened.

Dr. William Vicary

[qoldenskies]

thoughts on how each of the brothers comfort cc! Donnie when he's having a panic attack in private?

Thoughts on cc!brothers playing board games?

Thoughts on these questions because I suck at this

this is an old question but its midnight so im gonna take it im VERY bored and need an excuse to yap. on the second one ive answered smthn similar before (itd be relatively similar to what they did before) but for the first i CAN speak on it a little, going off cw and things ive just kinda instinctively known

leo is ultimately the best at it. donnie's the most comfortable around mikey, but if leo isnt actively having a flashback he's the fastest to act and most competent-- he's quick to be able to identify his triggers and he's rational enough to follow donnie's logic and work on his terms. he's usually the first to suggest and think about grounding techniques, which is something he mostly got from april who put a lot of time into researching it, but also just because he understands that donnie handles cold, hard fact better. eventually i think he'll be the quickest to employ the 5-step exercise over time. i think it'll work well when donnie's particularly dissociative.

^^^ this is also partially because he's experienced with him at. well. his worst. when he was having night terrors he was the one helping him through it for a while. after a while it becomes a song and dance. he really only feels out of his element if he's caught off guard. with leo, self-shame spirals are usually caused by a feeling of i should have known, i should have seen this coming. it means he keeps a close eye on things in order to prevent that, but he cant always see past himself and its inevitable there will be situations that blind-sight him. although it also means he's the most nosy about donnie's business which is not always a good thing, take that with a grain of salt. most surprising character to turn into a borderline helicopter parent lmfao

anyways. for mikey. he does his best 😭 he's out of his element and he's quick to feel frustrated with himself, especially because while he tries, and he cares, and that shines through with everything he does, it doesn't make him not a kid. a lot of the time he'll flounder and trip over himself or say something stupid and impulsive. he cant always properly read the situation and it leads to some misunderstandings, especially when he's already scared on donnie's behalf. i do think he is empathetic (in the way that he'll feel upset when someone else is) but that doesn't mean he's good at identifying reasons, or putting those feelings into words, or etc. sometimes he feels like donnie just freaks out on him and he cant do much but freak out about what he's doing wrong in the aftermath.

but i do think he's the best in like,,, he knows how to respectfully ask for donnie's boundaries, and he's always the first one to think about it. raph and leo will sometimes ask questions when they're already expecting a certain answer, and will get pushy if they think donnie is lying or cant actually handle things that he says he can. mikey's never that way, there's this surface-level respectfulness that can be really helpful in more complicated situations, because it means he'll be the fastest to break up a fight if its getting too heated or drag them all out if donnie needs personal space. he waits for donnie to express his boundaries, and then shouts them for him when he cant do it for himself. he leaves overthinking at the door and then spirals later, which is something that is new for him. he's gotten a lot better at compartmentalizing. not a good thing, not a bad thing. it's just his way of coping now, although i do think that sometimes it leads to him having delayed responses to triggers.

anyways raph is,, the worst at it, but that doesn't mean he's bad. he's just completely incapable of taking his own feelings out of it, because he has the worst ptsd from the curse to the point where just the sight of donnie panicking will put him on edge. soothing donnie is a lot like self-soothing as well-- it's desperate and afraid and guilty. he gets a lot better at appearing calm, by the end of cw even, but there's this emotional proximity to it that the others dont have, and they can all tell. when donnie's triggered, raph is triggered, and there is genuinely no way around it, especially if they're caught off guard. sometimes he can keep it together when he has a good sense of what he has to do, but he's always shaken. he always takes it so personally, even when it isn't his fault.

it means his way of handling it is usually mindless. he's not going to jump to count him through his breaths or ask questions or go through grounding tactics. he'll take any excuse to hold him close and keep it that way, as long as he's sure it wont set donnie off, rock and shush and soothe him and remind him over and over again that he's here, that everything's going to be okay, that raphie's never going to hurt him again, never ever-- (and he's convincing himself, too. he has to remind himself of that a lot, because he's so terrified that it could come back at any moment. even if he logically knows that isn't true and kitsune is dead. i think a lot of the time he struggles to process that he took part in killing her at all.)

also it wasnt mentioned in the question i would like to give a shout-out to cc!splinter; just as complicated as his canon counterpart, if not more so, but i think he does a really good job now. his focus wont always go in the right direction especially when he's panicked or run ragged, but when he's present he's usually very helpful. i'd honestly even say that he does a better job than mikey at the "it's not a bad thing that you're different" thing, because there is this edge of humor that peeks out pretty early on, when donnie's present enough to be able to handle it. he lets him be in on the joke without being the center of it, which is comforting.

but tbh it makes sense. splinter is haunted by many ghosts, including his own. it's not exactly a secret how much he yearns for the strength and notoriety of lou jitsu, and i dont think that's purely a physical body dysmorphia thing-- he's come away with a lot of ptsd. that effortless faux-confidence isn't so effortless anymore. every time he fakes it he only feels shame, no matter how hard he tries to push to make up for it. i think he'd understand donnie better than anyone, with feeling like you'll never go back to who you were. seeing this old visage of yourself only in recordings and the reverence in the voices of others. donnie's old self was never an idol, obviously, but with the way they speak about him now, he might as well have been. in CL donnie's experiences were implicitly paralleled with splinter's experiences with big mama, too. when you think about it, they've got a lot in common!

[purplealmonds]

Observations about Mononoke Karakasa characters & relationships based on costuming & color palettes

Let's guess who these girls' parents are and see where this rabbit hole takes us!

Analysis below the cut! This isn't spoilers as much as it is just going over publicly available information with a fine tooth comb but proceed with caution. Buckle in, this is gonna be a long one!

Based on the color palette of their outfits, these two girls featured in the second trailer at the 0:17 timestamp are the twin daughters of Hokuto Mizorogi (溝呂木北斗) as indicated on his bio on the official website.

Given Mizorogi's status as priest of the "Omizu-sama" faith, it's entirely possibly he's given special privileges within the ooku to father a child.

According to Japanese geisha culture, their half-painted lips indicate that they are children. They partially shaved their heads is reminiscent of a nun's makes sense given their religious parentage. Two context clues combined, I believe they are priestesses-in-training - a position which is higher than even that of the most favored concubines.

Supporting this theory, these twins have a very high position of power in the Ooku despite their youth, as seen by them being at the front of the procession featured in the teaser trailer at the 0:07 timestamp. They also have uniquely colored umbrellas:

As an aside – given how most of the spiral-masked women are visually identical, uniquely colored outfits are a visual shorthand for status (or narrative significance) in the ooku.

And I believe they are the gatekeepers for the, uhhhh, how do I put this delicately? The shogun's baby-making room? Take this with a grain of salt though; I could only see a sliver of the room they were opening in the first screenshot. The colors seem fairly similar though!

But also consider: this babymaking room has a lot of eye motifs, which is reflected in the pit seen in the ceremonial area where I presume Mizorogi presumably performs his religious services:

The third trailer introduces the theme of discarding essential parts of yourself. There is a shot of the comb falling into a pool of water in an unknown location:

Paired with the visual of the comb lying amongst discarded valuables in the water in the second trailer, I'm going to hazard a guess this is a common "ritual" of sorts:

I'm willing to bet Mizorogi enforces this "identity discarding" ceremony on behalf of the shogun. It says in his character bio he's a strong believer of "Omizu-sama". Did he discard his role as a father to step into the role as a the priest?

Their mother may be Kitagawa (北川), a high ranking maid within the Ooku.

The twins' hair and eye colors look similar enough, but there's more meat to this theory. Kitagawa seems to be a narratively important character based on how heavily she's featured in the trailers in increasingly angsty/mysterious ways:

Perhaps Kitagawa "gave away" her motherhood to the waters, which has religious baptism connotations. This hypothetical scenario feels rife with mononoke-formation potential.

Furthermore, from costume design standpoint, she also shares the blue and teal colors featured in Mizorogi's outfit.

As for her purple accents, I believe it is a color reserved for the higher-ranking women of the ooku.

I have a theory that the darker a color is, the higher the status is. Consider:

Asa (Left), who is a new maid but has a lot of potential for upwards mobility.

Tokita Fuki (時田フキ) (Center)), a lowly commoner who caught the attention of the shogun. Because she's a commoner, the purple is faded despite her high status, perhaps representing that it will disappear once she loses the shogun's favor. But because the rose pattern is almost a one-to-one match to that of Mizorogi's, perhaps she is strongly favored by this man as well.

Awashima (Right), the subordinate of Utayama, who is falling out of favor as Asa rises in prominence. There are still pops of dark purple, but a washed out lavendar permeates her palette.

Both Tokita and Awashima also have highly saturated yellow/yellow-greens, which could represent potential danger of their power disappearing due to outside influences.

As for the deeper purple...

Otomo Botan (大友ボタン) (Right) - a lady in waiting and daughter of a high-ranking senior councilor. Note that she also has pale purple in her palette because her high status was not earned. Because she borrows power from influences outside of the ooku, the black accents are represent that she has more power than even Utayama, the most powerful woman within the ooku.

Utayama (歌山) (Left) - the woman with the highest position of the Ooku,  "Odoshiyoroshi". She is also prominently garbed in red and white, which is a color seen in the shogun and a little bit of Mizorogi's outfit:

Lighter shades of red (i.e. pink) also seem to indicate men of lower status that still have some position of power, like these guards:

Note that Kame (カメ) (Left) and Mugiya (麦谷) (Right) also possess these "masculine" colors which may indicate that they have more forceful personalities compared to other women within the ooku:

Their respective outfits also have analogous shades close to the blues prominent in Mizorogi's outfit. Assuming blue has religious connotations (akin to Virgin Mary), perhaps they are also strongly faithful to whoever this "Omizu-sama" entity is.

Meanwhile, Asa also wears pink, but does not feature any blue in her outfit. I think may represent her lack of faith. She does seem like a more levelheaded individual not easily swept away by more dazzling aspects of mysticism.

This is the look of a woman who not only has a braincell or two, but has it on her person at all times.

Now let's look at our main protagonists!

Kusu features red and purple color accents in his outfit, which makese sense for his gender ambiguous presentation. You could say that the other colors featured in his outfit represent how the influences he collects by interacting with humans. Black is also featured heavily as the canvas for these colors. As mentioned earlier, this represents influences outside of the ooku.

In contrast, Shingi while sports both the masculine red/white and feminine purple colors of power, the latter definitely eclipses the former which matches his masculine presentation. His outfit also has black, but because his influence in the world comes in bursts during exorcisms, it is featured less prominently than Kusu. His disheveled look may represent his discarding of these superficial societal norms. His power - symbolized by red - need not be worn. It is already tattooed onto his skin - literally.

The only other characters that have red tattooed onto their skin are the twins from the beginning of this post. Come to think of it, their partially shaved look may also be a nod to the shogun's power - indicating that their very existence is divinely approved by him. So we come full circle!

So, yeah! Although these twins don't have an official bio, there's a lot to learn about them and others from extrapolation and inference alone!

In summary:

Red/White = Masculine/Divine power

Blue = Religious power

Purple = feminine power

Yellow = danger of power loss

Light colors = weak influence

Dark colors = stronger influence

Thank you for coming with me on this long diatribe!

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Devotional Hours Within the Bible by James Russell Miller

Daniel’s Principles

Daniel 1

There is something very noble in the picture of Daniel which we have in the first chapter of the Book of Daniel. He was only a lad. He had been torn away from the godly restraints and influences of his own home. He was now at liberty to do as he pleased, so far as parental control was concerned. He was among heathen people, and no one would blame him if he would disregard the rules of his home religion. Indeed, nobody there would know it! Besides he was a mere boy, with a partially formed character, at an age at which convictions usually rest lightly and when removal from the restraints of home frequently is the sign for the cutting of the moorings which thus far, have held the life from drifting.

All of these considerations heighten the beauty and nobleness of Daniel’s conduct. He knew what his duty was, for he had been instructed at home. This duty was the same in Babylon, as in Jerusalem. Change of location and of surroundings, makes no change in the principles of right and wrong. What was wrong in the holy city, under the shadow of the temple, in the sacredness of a saintly home could by no sophistical moral metamorphosis, be made right in heathen Babylon! There was nothing uncertain about Daniel’s attitude toward duty.

“Daniel purposed in his heart .” The heart is the place to settle all questions of principle. There was no long puzzling in Daniel’s case, about his duty. He did not go around asking advice from his friends. He did not try to find a back door out of the perplexity in which he was placed. He did not ask: “How will this affect my future condition here in this royal court? May it not interfere with my personal advancement? Will it not make it harder for me to get along as a captive?” He met the question on the grounds of moral right, and settled it instantly, and never reopened it. One who thus lives never needs to ask what others say or think or how such and such a course will affect one’s prosperity. It is a very heroic thing to be able to stand alone, to dare to be peculiar and not to do as others do. To be true to God, ofttimes requires us to stand entirely alone and even to be laughed at and sneered at by others! Decisions should always be made in just this way and when made they should be adhered to in spite of all opposition and danger.

One of the tests of character which came to Daniel in his captivity, was in connection with the food and drink allotted to him as a student. A daily portion of the king’s dainties and of the king’s wines was appointed for the young princes. But Daniel purposed in his heart that he would not defile himself with these things. So the temperance question, is quite an old question. Of course, it is easy to say that Daniel did not settle his course upon what we call modern temperance principles. It is easy to say that he was controlled by old ceremonial laws now obsolete, or by superstitious notions concerning what had been offered to idols. Nevertheless the principle remains the same. Daniel believed it to be wrong to partake of the king’s dainties and drink of his wine that he would be defiled by them if he touched them, and, so believing, he was firm in his determination not to use them.

“God made Daniel find kindness and compassion in the sight of the prince.” This was very important to Daniel’s success. Had this officer been harsh or indifferent, the story would have been ended right here perhaps in the martyrdom of the heroic boy. It is very important that we should act so as to win friends for ourselves. Sometimes people profess not to care what other people think about them but such indifference is surely very foolish! None of us know how much we owe to our friends, to the favor which we gain in their minds to the kind words they speak to us, and to the influence they exert on our behalf. No one can ever rise in the world to any important place except through the confidence and esteem of others.

We see here also, how God can make friends for one whom He wishes to promote. The Bible elsewhere tells us that the king’s heart is in the hand of the Lord. Again, we read, “When a man’s ways please the Lord He makes even His enemies to be at peace with Him.” So it is right for us to ask God to give us friends; but when we offer this prayer we must be very careful that we do our own part to be worthy of the friends whom we wish to win.

One who is cross, selfish, and rude will have but few friends and, when the time of need comes, will find himself left alone, without human sympathy and help. Evidently it was not hard to love Daniel: his character was so beautiful, his disposition so gentle, his manner so winning. Christians who wish to win favor and rise in the world, should cultivate the same qualities, and, thus making themselves attractive, they will win friends wherever they go.

The prince who was in charge of the young captives, feared to go contrary to his instructions. He felt quite sure that the boys would suffer in their appearance from their abstinence from the rich food and stimulating drinks provided for them and shrank from taking the responsibility of permitting it. Daniel showed his tact by suggesting a ten day trial. “Prove your servants, I beseech you, ten days; and let them give us only vegetables to eat, and water to drink.”

A good many people have about the same impression with regard to luxurious diet and drinks that this Babylonian prince seems to have had. They imagine that if they were to live plainly and temperately, that they would suffer in health or in brightness and sparkle. Probably in all such cases, a plain diet would be very much better for them. There is a vast amount of gluttony in the world even among Christians. Not many people would suffer from coming down to plain fare for a time. Certainly as regards alcoholic drinks, the experiment cannot fail to prove that abstinence is better every way for body, mind and soul than indulgence .

It is interesting to have the result of this experiment given in God’s Word. We are not to suppose that there was anything supernatural about this. No miracle was wrought to favor the use of the plain food and simple drink. The steward’s fears were groundless. The countenances of the Hebrew boys were fairer and they were healthier than those who had partaken of the king’s dainties.

These Hebrew youths showed their superiority in other ways. “God gave them knowledge and skill in all learning and wisdom.” God is able to help young people even at school. Of course, they were not helped except through their own industry and application. No doubt they worked hard as students, applying themselves diligently to every lesson. It will not do when the lessons are hard just to pray to God to teach them to us and then go out on the playground and waste our time, expecting to be divinely helped. God’s help is never meant to bolster up our laziness. We are not to pray that God will do for us anything we can do for ourselves. But God gives help only to those who earnestly help themselves. If a student applies himself with all diligence to the study of his lessons he has a right also to pray to God to help him, to make difficult things plain, to throw light upon obscure things, to make his mind alert and clear and God will do it!

“Daniel continued even unto the first year of king Cyrus.” For more than seventy years he held high positions in that heathen court. All that while his life was godly and beautiful. He was faithful to God, noble in character, and loyal to truth. He began well, and never swerved from his purpose to follow God fully, and do his duty. In Daniel’s life we have a wonderful illustration of the value and of the power of home training and teaching. So well was Daniel taught, so deeply was the influence of that home impressed upon his heart that when he was borne away as a captive to a heathen land no power of heathendom, no temptation, no threat of danger could make him swerve!

[doiefy]

nct 127 as cursed college profs

very partially based on stupid shit i've had the pleasure and misfortune of seeing in my own classes. happy finals season girlies </3 i rise from my casket of inactivity to bring you the shit post i wrote on the subway on the way to an exam. whose class do you think you'd survive?

cw: cynical college humour because i'm coping, adult humour

taeil: not even that old, but barely knows how to use technology. spends the first 15 minutes of lectures trying to figure out zoom, then the rest of the time poorly explaining quantum mechanics from a textbook written 20 years ago. trips down the stairs two days into the semester and goes on medical leave, only to be spotted on vacation a week later. no one even gives him shit for it.

johnny: originally the cool, chill prof who occasionally went out for drinks with his classes, until he realized he was cool and tried to get even more hip with the kids. now he uses bad memes in his slides and films tiktoks in his lab. the number of students who ask to get drinks with him significantly boosts his ego, but no one tells him they’re doing it just to cross “drinking with a prof” off the frosh bingo card.

taeyong: the sweetest, loveliest, kindest soul you will ever meet—except he’s only taught twice in his life, just got put in as a replacement for a prof who tripped down the stairs, and gives you the most god-awful final exam known to man. he’s also stressed out (on your behalf) at any given moment, to the point where he just passes everyone with an 80 and calls it a day.

yuta: the hip, fashionable prof who only serves looks and random commentaries on society in the middle of his lectures. undergrads fight to the death to join his research group, but the ones who make it eventually realize he spends most of his time partying with the department’s money. yet still, groundbreaking work comes out of his lab every year…

doyoung: retired from research a few years ago to teach full time, but not a single person knows why. he may offer the clearest, live-saving explanations in his lectures—but he constantly looks like he wants to go home and will decimate your entire existence with a single look if you ask anything about the syllabus two weeks into the semester.

jaehyun: the hot single prof. every single freshman girlie has a sickening, concerning, fanfic-esque crush on him. some go as far as nearly failing his class and then booking office hours with him before finals, only to find out that he’s been using Doyoung’s teaching material for years, without credit. he is very much horrendous at teaching on his own. and very much gay.

jungwoo: wanted to go into early childhood education, somehow got coerced into doing his masters, then his phd, then post doc, then— still fulfills his dreams by treating his students like kindergarteners. this includes gentle parenting of frat boys who won’t shut the fuck up during class, handing out healthy vegan treats, and encouraging “mindful moments” while you write the hardest exam he has ever administered.

mark: refuses to teach because he doesn’t think any of the kids will take him seriously, is forced to anyways by the department. as a prodigy so fucking removed from what it’s like to be stupid, he ends all his quantum lectures with “this is pretty straightforward,” and books it back to his lab on an electric skateboard. yes he built it himself. no he won't let you try and ride it.

haechan: shares an office with mark and spends most of his free time figuring out which organic compounds he can mix together to perfectly recreate the texture and smell of cum. if he doesn’t show up to class, it’s because he’s terrorizing pigeons on the street for science. shows gruesome videos of explosions and chemical fires for a chemical safety lecture. has had the fire alarm pulled on him at least twice.

[shirohige-pirates]

Solicitude

Victorian AU - inspired heavily by @hannahbarberra162's Hysteria series.

Marco/Reader

Summary: You meet Marco Edward during your debutante ball when you're 17, and marry him shortly after your 18th birthday. Agreements are reached in writing, but you realize quickly how much space exists within the lines. Will you be able to bend within the lines you drew yourself? Or will you break against edges you never imagined?

CW: Dark dark content. Misogyny, age gap, power struggle, dub con, non con, coercion, yandere, kidnapping, abuse, group sex, abuse of power, bondage, rough sex, oral, kink, bdsm dungeon, impact play, degradation, praise, gags, humiliation, you kind of unknowingly sign yourself over for free use and don't realize it until it's too late, mdni, DEAD DOVE YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Chapter 4: Shackles

Once the terms of the contract were set, you made a copy, signed both, and sent one back to Marco. You put your copy in hide and wrapped it in wool before tucking it in a small space in your room. It was possible your parents knew of the nook, but you only knew for certain that your sister knew about it.

Before you moved out you’d tell her about it in case you needed her to get it on your behalf.

You hoped that wouldn’t be the case. That the process of creating the contract would be enough to protect you, but with as brief as your time had already been, you knew he was no fool. He wouldn’t agree to something he didn’t want to.

The contract was supposed to help put you at ease over this whole affair, but instead it made your unease worse. You were worried that the contract itself was going to give you a false sense of security, but no matter how often you read over it, you couldn’t sort out what it was that bothered you. You almost wanted to ask your father to read it, but you worried that he’d overreact to your apparent concerns and call the whole thing off.

Which wouldn’t be the end of the world, but could cause issues that neither you nor your family needed or deserved.

There was little else you could do at this point. The path had been set, and you had no reason to believe Marco Edward was an unreasonable man. One with secrets, certainly, but he didn’t seem to be hiding his self from you. He didn’t woo you with sweet words and false smiles, but with sincerity.

You didn’t get much time to dwell on it regardless. A month after you finalized the contract with Marco, your parents, and his father, had pulled together everything for the engagement party. The most input you gave in the entire affair was what dress you ended up wearing, and that was after an entire weekend trying on dresses with your mother and sister. If it took two days to decide on a dress for the engagement party, you were a little concerned how much effort would go into the wedding dress itself.

It was a lavender empress cut dress, leaning more toward pink than purple, with lace detailing and a long satin ribbon at the waist. It was light and flowing, indicative of new beginnings like spring. Your hair was put up in a partial updo, a careful coil of hair accented in pearls that cascaded down in a loose collection of curls around your neck, laying softly on your shoulders.

It wasn’t until you were at the engagement party, surrounded by friends and family, that you finally saw what Marco was wearing. The suit was almost white at first glance, but the powder blue color became more apparent as he neared where you were. The whole venue quieted as he approached you, the steady click of his shoes against the marble floor, somehow more commanding of attention than any other sound.

The navy shoes made the powder blue suit a little more blue, and the pastel tie he wore matched your dress. The colors were starkly different from what you’d seen him wear otherwise, but they still suited him well.

He pauses in front of you, greeting your parents briefly before regarding you.

“You look quite lovely.” He says, his voice clear, but low enough that it’s really just for you.

“You look rather handsome.” You return, unable to help the smile on your lips when he smirks.

Marco gets down on one knee, and opens a small box. You’re certain the entire floor is looking at you both, but there’s something about his gaze that keeps you from looking around nervously. He opens the box to reveal a ring far more beautiful than you had expected. Your hand is over your mouth before you could stop it.

Three thin diamond-encrusted bands swirl together to create the ring’s shape. A single diamond, clear with shimmers of blue in it that were striking, and unnaturally beautiful, adorning the bands. It was stunningly well-crafted. Elegant and precise, there was nothing gaudy or pretentious about the design. Nothing clumsy or overdone, but rather it was flawlessly balanced.

If the circumstances were different, you’d almost think it was a symbol of his love.

But there was scarcely affection between the two of you as it was. Marco had declared he felt some affection for you, but-.

“Miss Nerona, please accept this as a token of my devotion.” He says, pulling you from your thoughts. You offer your hand, gloved as it is, and Marco gets the ring on it easily enough. It’s a little snug, which is to be expected, but your gloves are thin, you don’t doubt the ring will still fit well without the gloves.

He places a soft kiss on the back of your hand before standing up, and standing with you. The round of applause of the gathered guests comes into focus only after you look away from him. It feels like a bubble has popped and suddenly you were back in the hall with everyone else. You wonder if it was some effect of his, or if the ring had mesmerized you that completely.

It was beautiful, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from falling on it from time to time. You had plenty of excuses to look, almost the entire guest list came up to speak with you and Marco, ushered in, and often ushered away, by your parents or his father. Everyone offered their congratulations, almost everyone wanted to see the ring - for which there were ample compliments regarding the beauty and craftsmanship of it.

“My fiance deserves nothing but the best.” Marco would say, or, “I felt the quality needed to reflect my commitment to this union.”

No matter what his words were precisely, the sentiment was similar. Commitment, devotion, quality, an item that would endure as steadfastly as the two of you. It was almost like you were listening to him hammer in the finer points of wedding vows with every conversation.

After nearly two hours you’d held brief conversations with nearly every guest in attendance. You were certain at the minimum that you had spoken to all the folks who were either high enough in rank to deserve a moment, or powerful enough in their station that you wouldn’t risk accidentally snubbing them. One more conversation, one more person offering congratulations, and you were fairly certain you might scream.

It had nothing to do with being engaged, it was just the sheer number of people. There were only so many ways people could offer their congratulations, and there were only so many ways you could accept those congratulations. There was neither enough drink, or enough air, to keep things from becoming exhausting.

Maybe if it had been a union of love, you’d be able to deal with streams and streams of people, but this wasn’t like that. It might not be devoid of affection, as Marco had framed it, but you weren’t twitterpated. Neither of you were, frankly.

“If you’re comfortable with the idea,” Marco says after the last person is guided away from the two of you by your parents. “We can step out into the courtyard. The air will be cooler, and we can sit for a moment without being approached.”

“Please, let’s.” You agree, turning to your father to see both him and Mr. Edward waving you away. It seemed everyone was on the same page.

“I never considered myself to be a social butterfly,” you admit, sighing as your shoulders release tension the moment you walk outside. “But I never would have thought it would be so exhausting to talk to so many people.”

“I imagine even your sister would have struggled a bit back there,” he assures you, patting the top of your hand. “Everyone else only needed to endure a few moments of pleasantries, but we played the same basic conversation over and over again. Even I was floundering a bit at the end, and my job requires attentive conversation daily.”

“I suppose it’s a relief to know that about you.” You muse, and Marco quirks a brow, looking down at you. You can feel the gaze, even if you haven’t bothered to look up and meet it. “You comport yourself perfectly.” You begin explaining.  “An air of calm, and control, and I’m sure, despite your best efforts, that you are not, in fact, flawless, Mr. Edward. I do not mean it rudely, I only mean to say that I’m glad to be assured you’re as human as anyone else.”

“I will take it as a compliment then,” Marco says after a moment, offering you a warm smile. “I do need to apologize to you, since you’re of a mind to see my flaws as endearing at the moment.”

“Apologize for what?”

“We’re breaking ground on a new wing for the sanatorium.” He explains. “In two weeks. Between overseeing the construction, the impact the construction could have on my patients, and the subsequent expansion into the new wing, I won’t have time to court you properly.”

“… I will not take offense,” you say after a moment. You hadn’t expected to be courted in the first place. This wasn’t exactly a marriage of convenience, but it was one of mutual benefit to your families more than to one another. “In truth, I hadn’t expected to be courted.”

“Why not?”

You look around before answering, being certain there’s no one else close enough to over hear. “Well, there’s a contract between us for starters, though more pointedly this wasn’t something that began with a courtship.”

“You doubt my affections?” He asks the question calmly enough, but there’s something about his presence that seems to engulf you. As though the half-step closer he took was enough to eliminate all the space between you.

The courtyard is far too empty now. Too dark. You try to take a step back, but his hand is at your back. You try not to look up, but there’s no avoiding it, as though there’s no where else you could look. His gaze was intense, that light in his eyes, but you couldn’t look away.

“Affection and love are different, are they not?” You ask softly, your words barely forming against the weight of the air around you.

“Perhaps.” He answers, leaning you back.

You put your hands on his arms and tense. “Wait, I meant no disrespect!” You whisper the words in a rush, trying not to shout and cause a scene. He didn’t have you tilted back much, but enough that you’re only stable because of his hand at your back.

“I know,” he says easily, leaning down closer. “I merely mean to show you my affection, and you can decide for yourself if there’s any difference between it and love.”

Heat flushes through you and you try to step back, but there’s no escaping the position your in. “You-you can’t, you-.”

“Going back on your word already?” He hums, his words and gaze enough to keep you facing him. You manage to pull your eyes away from his hooded gaze, only to watch the easy grin slip across his lips.

“M-my word?” You feel trapped physically and within the confines of the conversation.

“I won’t be denied.” The words are heavy, pressing into you as if they mean to collapse you to the ground.

“W-we’re not m-married yet.” It’s not fear, it’s nerves. The concern of being caught, the uncertainty of whether or not he was going to kiss you in public like this.

Marco leans in close enough you’re certain he’s going to kiss you, only for him to lean back and straighten up. He regards you quietly for a moment, and the air shifts, the weight of it all evaporating as he straightens you up and takes a small step back.

“How interesting.” He hums, giving you a moment to sort yourself. “I wouldn’t have expected you’d want your first kiss to be in front of a full cathedral. My little doveling enjoys being watched.”

“W-what - what - no, I - I just, I…” Pressing your lips together you look away from him. You feel like you’re going to burst into flames, you’ve never been so flustered before. “I’ve s-simply never been kissed before, forgive me.”

“Nothing to forgive,” he assures you. Something in his tone or stance feels like a question and you feel yourself wilting under the unspoken request.

Well, a request for now, certainly. An inevitability, most definitely. You were going to kiss him. Either now, or during the wedding.

“You… you may.” You manage to say quietly, doing your best to not step away when he steps closer again. “I, I mean I would rather my first time be private.”

A strange feeling shudders against your skin, and you aren’t sure what to make of it. Like a lock bolting into place despite there being nothing else there. Marco’s hands cradle your face carefully, pulling your thoughts from the odd feeling, and bringing your focus to him.

“Then I will show you a brief glimpse of my affections.” His words make your heart skip. You’re not prepared, you wonder idly if you would ever be, but you can’t ask for another moment. There is no more delaying the inevitable, and you weren’t wholly against it.

As gentle as his touch is, his control of your head is absolute. You could do nothing, no matter what kind of resistance you might have desired, you were caught completely. He tilts your head to the side carefully, as though you are thin glass and delicate whispers, something so easily shattered if he didn’t take care.

The press of his lips against yours is softer than you expected, warm and gentle. The soft thrill is pleasure or nerves or maybe even fear, you aren’t sure. Your hands are on his forearms as he leans in, pressing his lips against yours with more weight, a low hum from his chest making you gasp.

For a second you feel like you’re drowning in the kiss, his tongue is in your mouth and his absolute command of your senses stutters your brain. There’s a surge of emotion, but before you can even begin to guess at it, before you can even struggle, he breaks the kiss, holding your face in place as you pant from the disorienting rush. Your face is flush and your lips are tingling. You don’t know if it was the act or the drive behind it, but affection seems like a woefully inadequate word.

There’s no doubt in your mind that his kiss would’ve lasted hours if he could’ve gotten away with it. That his hands would’ve wandered and his kiss would’ve bruised your lips by the end of it.

A powerful, demanding passion.

“I promise the kiss at our wedding will be chaste.” He assures you, his hands releasing your head and lingering nearby in case you needed to steady yourself.

“… Thank you.” Your words are quiet, and you accept his offered elbow without much thought.

“Mm,” he hums, a gentle finger on your chin. He tilts your face one way and then the other, and then nods. “Your makeup is unmarred and your lips aren’t swollen. If you prefer to return to the hall, no one will know.”

“A… a moment, just a moment longer, and then yes.” You say, a little more substance to your words. “Just a moment for my heart to settle.”

“… Certainly, sweet doveling.” He hums the words quietly, you don’t even really hear them. Marco knows you mean your heart in terms of the organ itself, and not your feelings, but for now he’ll take what he can get.

[altocat]

I have a question.

I think Genesis' parents were one of the best people in the game, they were rich people who decided to adopt a victim of child experimentation and falsified reports to shield Genesis from having ShinRa's interest, thus risking their lives. Also, Angeal said he didn't steal from them, not because he was afraid of them punishing them, but simply because he was a friend with their son. As far as I understand, all canon info about them is pointing to them being amazing people, though it's possible I missed something.

Why do you think people write/hc them as shitty people who deserve to die? What canon info says they're bad?

You often say Sephiroth is a horrible monster with absolutely no hope for redemption for killing people in Nibelheim, which is true.

Why do you think Genesis is a cute baby boy for killing everyone in Banora, including his parents, who earned his redemption with his virtuous acts? Were people in Banora all monsters?

Sorry if it's a weird question, but I keep wondering about it and curiosity got the best of me. Genesis and Sephiroth killed people when they were blind with their desire for revenge, but Sephiroth didn't kill his family. What makes it a redeeming act for Genesis?

It's very likely that Genesis' parents were fully aware of the experiments and were in on it the entire time. Genesis hints as much when he claims that they betrayed him, much in the way of how Shinra betrayed him. Additionally, they did not lie on behalf of their son WILLINGLY, only because Genesis threatened them. They probably would have readily given him up to Shinra, despite the fact that he's their son.

Add to this the very odd fact that Genesis keeps a collection of his childhood accomplishments OUTSIDE of his old home, as well as the fact that Hollander, Hojo, and Gillian were ALL in the know about the experiments, it's very, very likely that Genesis always felt disconnected from his parents and that they were very much in league with his abusers. If it happened with Angeal, then there's no way Genesis' parents didn't know. And I highly doubt they took him in out of the kindness of their hearts considering that he just enlisted in SOLDIER the second he came of age. Likely he was being groomed since childhood into joining Shinra's ranks.

I think that Genesis probably had a very good reason to be angry. And to feel betrayed by his parents. I'm sure there are plenty of people who can add extra details to this to polish up what I'm trying to say, but Genesis is just as much of a victim as both Angeal and Sephiroth. He was still being integrated into Shinra and there was no way they were ever going to let one of the top specimens of Project G live a normal life. Angeal's family was not rich because Gillian refused to let Shinra/Hollander compensate them. Who's to say that Genesis' parents weren't rich partially because they were high status allies to Shinra? Why else are they in Shinra's contact list?

And another thing to note:

When Genesis kills his parents (offscreen), he is suffering from the effects of the Degradation Process. He is literally performing an act as a result of mind-altering internal decay and possible brain damage. I'm not doing to pretend that killing one's parents is a cool and okay thing to do, but this is a scenario in which an effectively dying man being ravaged by sickness is killing his parents out of the perceived likelihood that they were in league with the people who did this to him. And probably had more than enough reasons to confirm that his suspicions were true.

Compare to Sephiroth, who killed other people's parents, who were completely innocent and had nothing at all to do with what Shinra did to him.

[hurlumerlu]

Thank you very much for your thoughtful answer to my ask! I enjoyed every point you made! I think your first explanation in particular (avoidance) was where my mind went, too. I thought in the reblogs maybe there was some confusion, so to clarify: I was referring to the scene just after Kant's woken up, when Bison flat-out asks him what's up with the ocean thing and Kant dismisses it as just a regular phobia. And that specificity is the main reason I suspect it will be revisited (not necessarily in any detail but I think Bison will find out), because they didn't need to include that brief exchange, but to choose to have Bison ask and Kant deflect, especially when it's something the audience has only just been clued in on... I don't know, seemed deliberate, but maybe it's wishful thinking cos I need everyone (both fictional and real!) to understand what my poor guy's gone through! (I still go back and forth on whether or not his dead parents will end up being connected to all the other dead parents! Can't decide, and can't decide if I want it or not!)

I might be partially responsible for the confusion, as I got carried away and referenced other moments in the episode, like all the Babe mentions or the safeword scene... sorry about that ^^" That being said, I think Kant's later talks and actions are very congruent with his first scene of the ep, hence the temptation to link the two. He's on an incredibly even keel for that entire episode! but that's not what you're talking about. (as an aside, I love that you summarized in one word - avoidance - what took me one rambly paragraph to express)

Man, I understand you so much about wanting everyone to know what he's gone through. I've spent all the earlier episodes wanting to grab Fandom by the lapels and shout don't you see how trapped he is??? Tbh even if he had never actually fell in love I would still feel bad for him. So yeah, I get it. If we see someone (Babe, Bison, Style, even Fadel, anyone!) get angry on his behalf, I will be so happy. And you're right that it feels deliberate that they chose to, like, adress it while not adressing it. But is it because they'll go back to it or was it simply to clue us in on his state of mind? No idea!

(for the whole dead parents thing... idk, a plane crash seems a very different m.o. than just gunning people down, so I would lean toward "unconnected." but I feel very neutral about either possibilities, though I think "connected" would be harder to pull off well.)

Closing this post with a picture of Kant being the little spoon, because yesterday my friend was saying "but when is it Kant's turn to be spooned and petted on the head and comforted?" and while I think the caretaker role was healing and comforting for him this episode, it does not mean that I don't want to see him being taken care of not like that Fadel! drop the gun!

[coochiequeens]

It's not "Procreative tourism" its human trafficking

The gay couple, who travelled to the US for the birth of their son, could be among the first Italians prosecuted under a new ban on domestic surrogacy

A protest in support of surrogacy in Italy. The banner reads: ‘We are families, not crimes’. Photograph: Alessandra Tarantino/AP

Italy

The Italian parents of a child who was recently born in the US via surrogacy say they are too afraid to return home since Giorgia Meloni’s government enacted the west’s most restrictive law against what she described as “procreative tourism”.

The gay couple could be among the first Italians to be prosecuted under the law, enacted in early December, which extended an outright ban on domestic surrogacy by making it a universal crime that transcends borders, putting them on a par with terrorists, paedophiles and war criminals.

The measure can lead to prison terms of up to two years and fines of between €600,000 and €1m (£500,000 and £840,000).

The couple’s son was born in San Diego, California, in mid-February. “They are very worried about returning to Italy because there’s the prospect of jail and fines,” Gianni Baldini, a lawyer for the pair who has made the case public on their behalf, told the Guardian. “They are now evaluating the possibility of remaining in the US.”

Meloni’s far-right Brothers of Italy had long campaigned for those who seek surrogacy abroad to be criminalised. After the law, which only applies to Italian citizens, was passed in parliament in October, Meloni said it was needed to “fill a regulatory gap to also prevent this inhumane practice in procreative tourism”. The measure is among several socially conservative policies pursued by her government in its quest to promote so-called traditional family values.

Until the international ban was enacted, an estimated 250 Italian couples sought surrogacy overseas, the vast majority of them straight people who turned to surrogates for health reasons.

The practice is legal and regulated in 66 countries, although most Italians access the procedure in the US or Canada, where surrogacy is not specified on the birth certificate and where their child can obtain immediate US or Canadian citizenship.

Baldini believes there could be “a few dozen” children who have been born abroad via surrogacy since the law was enforced. “We don’t know how many couples are currently in this situation, but from cases I have assisted in the past, I do know there are those who simply do not want to talk about it as they are afraid,” he said.

The couple in San Diego are both employed by a multinational company and so could potentially stay and work in the US; however, Baldini said they are also concerned about the climate towards LGBTQ+ families under Donald Trump’s administration, especially if the US president pursues his pledge of ending birthright citizenship.

The Italian law does not apply retroactively but even though the pregnancy was conceived before it was enacted, now that their son has been born the couple still risk prosecution if they return to Italy.s

Baldini said a court battle in Italy would probably deter the couple. “It would be very delicate and there would be publicity surrounding the baby. They want to protect their child and don’t want their situation to become a cinema-style story.”

However, if the case did reach court, Baldini said he would aim to take it to Italy’s highest level and argue that the law is unconstitutional. “This is because it violates the principle of double jeopardy – you can’t be criminalised for something if it was not a crime in the country in which it was committed.”

The law was partially founded with the aim of protecting poor women around the world who are exploited for surrogacy. “There are certainly women who are exploited, but this happens in countries where there is no regulation,” said Baldini. “Italy can’t argue that surrogates in California are being exploited because in California it is perfectly legal.”

[sofabthat]

Pride and Prejudice V

Perhaps relying on the protective cloak of another wasn't the desperate move Elizabeth thought it was. She found grace in the kind acts Mr. Darcy did on her behalf or, even, just for her. Now, not only she becomes full of warmth every time their paths come across, but she's aware of the context she's in and how he approaches the situation carefully, with intentions of helping her. Her sister's aberrant act would've cost them their entire future. She was terrified of the outcome, not only for herself but for her older sister Jane, too.

Helpless, she felt. In her worrisome state, she opened up to him about everything. As if, for her, he would soothe all the wounds life had made on her skin. Vulnerability was not seen often on her once prideful gaze so, when it appeared, he had to hold onto it dearly. Her feelings, a calamitous torment, had to be stopped for a bit. She was Lydia's older sister after all, she had to act like it. Shame and frustration, all at once filled her shell.

Previous judgemental views she had dissapeared, but some of them increased. Partially, she was proven wrong that, if it would've happened earlier, it would've caused outrage. Not only this is the first time she seeks help and accepts it, but she condemns her parent's failures. Her mature persona is rooted now, and it comes along with gained emotional intelligence.

Hope. What not long ago had pure hatred and rejection in her, now shines with high expectations that tears her insides with anticipation. She thinks now that the situation was sorted, she could return to her main turmoil, but reality hits her hardly. She's unsure if Mr. Darcy will ever look her way again, but his previous actions contradicted this statement. She ignores everything besides him, including Mr. Darcy's attempt to put shame on her. For the first time, she was fighting for something she wanted, nobody was ever going to take it away.

Mutual respect and most importantly, love. They had love. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy's marriage would only reflect on their journey filled with obstructions to never tore them apart. Just as an old tale, we find our main protagonist overcoming her initial view. Maybe once outdated and undeveloped, just as much as the Pride and Prejudice they held daily, our final farewell to Lizzie's character, clearly, doesn't leave us devastated.

picture belongs to @/Shakira Habibi on pinterest.

[separatedway]

𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚 : what does love mean to your muse - how do they show it? how do they want to receive it?

𝐞𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐬 : when your muse needs clarity - who or what do they turn to?

𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐧 : are there any details from your muse's childhood that sticks with them - good or bad?

gimme

Plant asks:

Camellia: Ada doesn't view love as a feeling, but rather, a series of actions and decisions made. Love is a commitment and investment in others just as much as one's self. It's a choice to make. What she or other people find attractive or are drawn to is only a partial factor.

She shows her love in gifts and proximity. Ada only spends her spare recreational time with people she cares about, whether they're friends, or partners.

Ada prefers to be loved in ways that aren't smothering, and with the patience and understanding that she's not socially or emotionally driven. She prizes her freedoms above all else, and will not compromise that.

Eucalyptus: When Ada needs clarity, she'll usually withdraw from people and take to reading or watching movies. If she feels like she needs a person to dicuss things with, she'll go to whichever confidant she thinks is best equipped to help her work through a situation.

Fern: A lot of her cynicism and outlook is rooted in the specific betrayals of of her foster family. They were undercover agents spying through the guise of domestic work on behalf of the US (known as 'illegal spies'). After her "parents" were captured and compromised abroad, she learned that she was adopted for the express purpose of maintaining a guise of a family, that her upbringing was fabricated, and that the family would split upon being returned to the US in a prisoner swap.

She'd always been low affect, and low empathy, but after being relinquished back to the CIA and forced to pursue spy work as part of a different program, she came to view a lot of expressions of care and talks of love as beneath her and manipulative in nature, and betrayal as a fundamental tool in her kit.

Even after escaping her situation, she still has to fight reflexive disgust with people trying to express care with her, even those she's known for a while. She considers her childhood nonexistant/unreal, and rarely speaks about anything about her prior to 1996.

[paranatura-verse]

The Bronze Bay gang and their families

Bronze Bay is one of many independent projects that was absorbed into the Paranaturaverse, and the characters there are some of my most fleshed out. So here's a look into their home lives and the families they come from!

(under the cut because this is gonna be longgg)

Lucy Skye is the daughter of David and Sandra Skye, an antiques dealer and florist respectively. She has a ten year old sister named Ellen, who's one dream in life is to become a world champion boxer. Sammy Celestine, upon his arrival on Earth, was informally adopted into the family, the only humans outside of his friend group who are aware of his extraterrestrial origins. They have a silly little kitty named Fish.

Theo Murdock is the son of Den and the late Helena Murdock, both horse trainers and ranchers. After the death of his mother Theo and his dad stuck close, running the family ranch together. Whilst their horses aren't technically considered pets, Theo does have his own personal horse that isn't leased out for customers to ride, named Maybelle. He's also working to retrain his mother's horse, Jupiter.

Honey Harris is the daughter of Martha Williams and Franklin Harris, a financial advisor and accountant respectively. She has two younger siblings, seven year old fraternal twins Hailey and Miles. Due to her parents both being more dedicated to their work than their children, and each openly hostile to their former spouse, Honey was able to fight for custody of her younger siblings despite only being seventeen. Both supervised and supported by her social worker Cody, Honey, Hailey and Miles are allowed to live independently from their parents. They have two pet mice, Cheddar and Parmesan.

Francesco Aliprandi is the son of Valentina Aliprandi and an unknown father. His mother, a seamstress, was initially reluctant when he wished to extend his foreign exchange year to California into an indefinite stay, but supported his wishes, sending him money and gifts when possible, and ensuring he can keep in touch with his friends in Italy, Giovanni and Rosa. Whilst he has no pets of his own, Hailey and Miles permit him partial ownership of Cheddar and Parmesan as he lives with them.

Reyes Martinez is the son of Alejandro Martinez and Hana Rivera, brother to Luis and Angel. Born in Mexico in a mixed Mexican-Colombian family, he decided to join his aunt Daniela's family when they chose to emigrate to the USA. Although his aunt and her family, uncle Mateo and cousins Maria and Sofia (plus Sofia's fiance, Austin) were happy for him to accompany them, his parents did not contact him once after his arrival in the States. Only his brother Angel wrote to him, on his own behalf and that of their grandfather Fernando. In America the family adopted a German Shepherd named Peludo.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Hair Trigger

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Superfam, YJ98

Summary: A junior at Gotham University, Jason finds it difficult to conceal his worsening mental health from his family and his friend, Jon Lane Kent. Family secrets are revealed and boundaries are pushed as Jason and Laney struggle to navigate through school, their romantic feelings, and their trauma. Could the reintroduction of Laney Kent be more trouble than it's worth, or is it just what Jason needed to confront the demons of his past?

I will also do trigger warnings for chapters and if there is smut I have the chapter(s) tagged so you don't have to worry about nsfw in the fic if you're just here for the story itself.

Chapters: 11/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Jonathan Lane Kent, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Conner Kent, Natalia Knight, Jonathan Samuel Kent, Cassie Sandsmark, Chris Kent, Bart Allen, Original Character(s)

Relationships: JayLaney, Clois, TimKon

Additional Tags: University AU, No Powers AU, Sharing A Bed, Romance, Angst

Chapter Eleven: Home Dining

Jason took his shower and got dressed for work that morning, and Laney sat on his bed swinging his feet. "Jason?" Laney called.

"I'm done with the bathroom," Jason replied. He walked over to the doorway, stopping at the threshold as if he were waiting to be invited in.

"You run hot, you know that?" Laney asked. Jason nodded, rubbing his neck out of embarrassment. "What?"

"I usually sleep in my underwear, and I've never shared a bed with anyone before," Jason confessed. Laney chuckled.

"C'mere," Laney whispered, gesturing with both hands for Jason to enter the room. Jason walked over and stood in front of Laney. "I'm messing with you. Jason, I don't care what you sleep in or how warm you sleep... Tonight was the first in almost a month that I've slept through the whole night. I wasn't saying it because it bothered me, but I'd like it a lot if the next time you stay over, you really make yourself at home." Jason sat down next to Laney and lay his head on Laney's shoulder.

"You want me to sleep in my underwear next time I come over?" Jason asked.

"It'd be preferred, yeah," Laney joked. Jason chuckled and interlaced his fingers with Laney's. "You wanna know what I'm thinking?" Laney asked. Jason nodded.

"Sure," Jason whispered.

"I'm thinking this could really work... I'm also wondering if you want a ride to work or school or wherever you're going," Laney replied. Jason nodded.

"I work in the tutoring center at school—." His phone rang.

"Is that your dad?" Laney asked.

"Actually, no, it's your dad... Should I tell him I spent the night here?" Jason asked.

"Wait and see if he asks... It's not like anything happened. We didn't even kiss... Go ahead," Laney whispered.

Jason answered the phone, whispering a polite, "Good morning, Mr. Kent."

"Good morning, Jason... Are you busy?" Clark asked.

"No, I'm not busy... Is something wrong?" Jason asked. Laney gave Jason a peck on the cheek and took his clothes to the bathroom.

"No, actually, I just wanted to call to ask if you were okay. I know you and Bruce aren't exactly on speaking terms right now, but—."

"I understand that you might feel partially responsible, but it's on him because it was his decision," Jason interrupted.

"Can you afford to miss school today?" Clark asked.

"I have work, and then I have a test today. I won't be free until almost seven... Is this why you called?" Jason asked.

Clark took a deep breath over the phone. "Yes, Jason. Bruce just wants to talk to you in person. Bruce knows what he did hurt you, and he wants to speak to you to work things out," Clark replied, "And trust me, talking things through isn't really something he's used to doing... Parents are still learning too. It doesn't mean you have to forgive him, but it does mean that you might have to look at things a little differently."

"Well, he can meet me at school at six-thirty by the cafeteria... But only because you spoke on his behalf, Mr. Kent," Jason replied.

"Okay. I'll let Bruce know... Oh, and Jason, tell Laney I said good morning—."

"Mr. Kent, I can—."

"I was going to say when you see him," Clark chuckled, "How's Laney feeling, by the way?"

"He's doing good," Jason whispered. He could hear Laney's brothers yelling in the background.

"Boys, please... Thank you, Jason. Feel free to call me if you ever want to talk," Clark offered.

"Thanks, Mr. K., I will," Jason replied before hanging up. Jason walked out to the living room and tied his shoes while he sat on the couch.

"What'd my dad say?" Laney asked as he walked out of his bathroom. Jason shrugged.

"He told me that my dad wants to talk to me... Oh, and he asked if you were okay," Jason replied, "Can we get breakfast on campus?"

Laney nodded. "Jason, come here," Laney replied. Jason smiled and walked over to Laney.

Laney threw his arms around Jason's neck and pressed a kiss to Jason's lips. Jason smiled and opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't find the words. Laney kissed him, and before either of them could think, Jason lay on the couch as Laney kissed his neck, and he took his hands and held Laney's face. "Laney, no, remember," Jason reminded him, a tinge of nervousness in his voice. It was just enough for Laney to notice. Jason maintained eye contact with Laney as Laney took a deep breath, and he nodded. Laney rested his forehead against Jason's shoulder.

"I'm sorry... I forgot," Laney whispered. Jason smiled and pressed a kiss to Laney's cheek.

"I forgot too... We gotta go anyway," Jason whispered. Laney nodded, and they both got up and grabbed their bags before they made their way downstairs to the car. They rode to school in silence, and after they got out, Jason went around to the driver's seat and took Laney's hand in his.

Laney followed Jason to the cafeteria, and Jason ordered a coffee for himself, tea for Laney, and some french toast for the both of them. After their order was ready, Jason ate with Laney, brushing Laney's hand with his pinky. "What are you thinking?" Jason asked.

"I don't want to rush you, Jason... That's all. I'm sorry if I—."

"You didn't rush me. Laney, you weren't pushing me to do anything back there," Jason interrupted as he took a sip of his coffee.

"Swear?" Laney asked.

"Swear," Jason answered.

Laney went back to eating before looking up once more, "You really had a crush on my mom, huh?" Laney teased.

"Shut up," Jason laughed, "She smells nice..."

"How do you know what my mom smells like?" Laney asked.

"She hugged me once... What? I was upset about something, and she gave some weird sports reference I didn't understand, and she hugged me," Jason replied. Laney chuckled.

"Yeah, that sounds like Mom... Bet she called you Champ or some shit like that," Laney whispered, "I can see it now. I can see why you liked her... Unless you still—."

"No, I don't still have a crush on your mom. Actually, in a way, most of the stuff I liked about her helped me like you... I mean, you're a huge jerk sometimes, but underneath it all, you're one of the warmest people I know," Jason whispered.

"You mean that?" Laney asked as he finished up. Jason nodded. "And what are you?"

"Oh, I'm just an asshole—." Laney chuckled. "No, seriously. I'm mean as fuck," Jason laughed.

"Yeah?" Laney asked. Jason nodded. "You know what, now you sound like yourself. Want me to walk you to the tutoring center?"

"Only if you'll let me walk you to class next week," Jason replied. Laney got up and threw their plates away before taking a sip of his tea.

"Mm, Jason, okay... Oh! Jay, um, if I don't call you this weekend, it's because my mom and I have therapy on Friday," Laney whispered, "And I'm pretty sure she's gonna spend the weekend with me." They walked hand-in-hand, and once they got to the tutoring center, instead of kissing Jason, Laney hugged him. He held onto him for a while.

"Lane..." Jason whispered. Laney let go. "I'm gonna meet my dad here at like six-thirty tonight."

"If you want to talk after you see him, I'll be here," Laney whispered, "I'll even come and pick you up if you want me to." Jason nodded.

Once Laney was gone, Jason went back to work, and he couldn't help but smile.

The day didn't seem to drag on like it usually did for him. It wasn't until late in the afternoon that a wave of discomfort washed over him. He wished that he hadn't agreed to see Bruce after class. After Jason's class ended, he walked over to the cafeteria and stood outside. He took out his phone and called Laney. "Hey, you and your dad talk yet?" Laney asked.

"Are you still on campus?" Jason asked.

"Uh-huh, want me to wait for you?" Laney asked. Jason leaned against the wall and looked up at the stars.

"Yeah, Lane... I don't know how long I'll be, though—."

"That's okay. I told you I'd stick around," Laney whispered, "I'll be here. See you in a little bit, okay?"

"Okay," Jason whispered before Laney hung up.

He waited for about ten minutes and decided to walk home, but before he could move, he heard a woman's voice. "I hate to be late, but I just spent an absurd amount of time arguing with your father about which one of us should come out to speak to you."

Jason turned to look at her, and she was just as he remembered.

"Natalia? Mom?" Jason's eyes filled to the brim with tears. He embraced her, almost lifting her off of the ground. She hugged him back. "What are you doing here?" Jason asked.

"Will you walk with me?" Natalia asked. Jason nodded and followed her as they walked toward the park. "Jason, blame for my absence does not solely rest on Bruce. I chose to stay away because I thought it would benefit you."

Jason looked at her and took a deep breath. "You left me?" Jason whispered. His voice broke, and he stopped walking.

"No, Jason, you don't understand. It wouldn't have been easy for you if I stayed," she whispered, "It wasn't until Bruce sabotaged my plans to meet with you that I realized I was being incredibly selfish. I had to separate myself for your own good—."

"You never called or wrote... How was that good for me?" Jason asked.

She took a deep breath and nodded. "I just wanted you to move on with your life. I thought it would be best—." Jason started walking again, and Natalia followed. "Jason, I understand if you're upset with me—."

Jason pulled out his phone and sent a text. "I am upset with you, but I think we should have dinner at my apartment. I'll walk you back to the parking garage because that's where my ride is waiting," Jason replied. He turned back toward the school and walked a few paces ahead of her. Jason blinked away a few tears, walking to the lot, and Jason waited until she got in Bruce's car before letting his tears fall. When he got to Laney's car, he got in and slammed the door.

"Jesus! Jason—. Hey," Laney's voice softened, "Hey. What happened?"

"She doesn't—." Jason swallowed hard. "She didn't want to come back."

"Jason... What are you talking about?" Laney asked gently. "What's wrong?" Jason wiped his face with his sleeve, and Laney put his knees in his seat to lean in and wipe Jason's face with his jacket. "Hey... It's alright."

"My mom didn't come back because she didn't want to," Jason wept, and Laney moved Jason's hand away from his face. "She could've come back, but she didn't."

Laney nodded. "I don't really know your foster mom all that well. I only met her once, but I know that sometimes parents rarely ever just wake up and decide they don't love their kids anymore... If she didn't come back—. You don't want me to explain things to you. I'm sorry," Laney apologized. Jason embraced him and cried. "I've got you."

Laney allowed him a few minutes to pull himself together, and Jason sniffed as he mumbled, "You're probably right." Jason inhaled sharply, and Laney kissed his cheek. "We can go now..."

"You sure?" Laney asked. Jason nodded. "It's gonna be okay. Dinner's gonna be fine. I'll even help cook." Jason bit his nails. "Hey, I'm serious. It's gonna be fine."

Laney buckled his seatbelt and started to drive toward Jason's apartment. "I couldn't even say how I felt. I don't have the words. I can't—."

"That's okay... Sometimes talking about your feelings is like that... Just do and say what you feel—."

"I change my mind," Jason blurted out, and Laney turned to look at him. "Maybe we should just go back to—."

"Jason, what's up with your family and feelings. Just tell them exactly how you feel... Isn't it better that everyone knows what's going on?" Laney asked. Jason didn't answer. Instead, he covered his mouth and looked out the window like a scolded child. "If you don't want to talk to them, at least text them and tell them that." Jason shook his head.

"I'm gonna go..." Jason mumbled.

"I know it's a lot, but I don't think you'll regret dealing with things," Laney replied, "I know I'm not as in touch with my emotions as my brothers and dad are, but I do know that talking things out does work."

Jason didn't say anything else until they got to his apartment and Natalia and Bruce stood at the door as if they'd been there several minutes before Jason and Laney arrived. Jason let them all in, and he went to the kitchen to wash his hands. Laney greeted both of them and washed his hands as well. "Laney, can you make the salad?" Jason asked. Laney nodded.

"I like your apartment—."

"You don't," Jason interrupted, and Laney nudged him.

"Just change the subject," Laney whispered.

"So, have you both been lying to me as a unit, or did you part ways completely when I was fourteen?" Jason asked his parents.

"Jason, that's not fair. I thought it was what's best for you—."

"It wasn't... Everything was different. I lost you and my best friend. I wasn't happy—."

"Because it wasn't fair... I should have been there. I should've made better choices so that I could have been there... I couldn't come back to you without learning to be the parent you needed," Natalia interrupted, "I know now from what you're saying and from what Bruce has told me, we were wrong about the way we handled things... That's why I'm here now. I want you to know that I never stopped loving you, even in my absence. I just wanted you to feel normal."

"Dad, why didn't you just ask me if I thought about running away? And Mom, why didn't you ask me if I had feelings about being around you after what you did?" Jason asked. "Why didn't you two ever ask me about how I felt?"

"You seemed fine," Bruce replied from where he sat on the couch.

"I wasn't okay. I disappeared, Dad, and you would've known had you just asked me. You never asked me how it felt to know my mom was going to jail or what it felt like to know I wasn't allowed to see my best friend anymore or how it felt to have my whole life turned upside down again...

I've been thinking these past few days, and I just have to ask... Mom, did you ever once think about how hard it was for me to trust you when you met me? And Dad, why is it that you won't allow me to know the causes for why I always feel like this?" Jason asked. Laney looked up from the lettuce he'd cut up.

Natalia opened her mouth to speak, and no words came out. Bruce took a deep breath. "Is this about the hospital?" Bruce asked.

"That's what all of this is about, actually," Jason replied harshly.

"I don't know what led up to it because you wouldn't speak to me afterward, but you kept telling me that you just needed some air... And then you drove your fist through your window," Bruce replied, "You don't remember that?"

Jason chewed his lip. "No, I don't remember..."

Laney cleared his throat. "Jason, you should go sit and talk with your parents. I'll cook dinner..." Laney whispered the words in Jason's ear. Laney kissed him on the cheek. "Okay?"

Jason nodded and sat in a chair in his living room. He listened to Bruce speak for a while about what happened all those months ago. "I chalked it up to you being stressed about school... I never really thought to ask why," Bruce replied, "It doesn't mean that I wasn't concerned about you..."

"I know," Jason replied, "But sometimes I feel like you don't really hear me."

"I do. I just sometimes don't know what to say or do in response," Bruce replied.

"We did agree on one thing in the car... We should have been more of a team when it came to caring about you. We'd spent so much time competing for your time and affection we never realized how much that hurt you," Natalia added. She reached out and waited a moment as if she were waiting for his permission, and Jason embraced her. He took Bruce's hand and pulled him into their small embrace.

Laney's phone rang, startling the three of them, and he apologized before answering his call. "Conner?"

"Hey, Lane. Are you busy?" Conner asked.

"A little busy... Why? What's wrong?" Laney asked as he stepped outside.

"Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to show you a picture of my tattoo," Conner replied.

"I feel like you could've texted me—."

"I wanted to get your reaction in real-time," Conner replied, "Did you get it yet?" Laney looked at his phone and opened a text from Conner.

"Give me like two seconds... Wait—." Laney stopped talking for a moment and smiled. "You know, you lied to me."

"I'm sure you're used to it. What do you think?" Conner asked.

"I think you're an idiot for doing this, but it looks great. I'm surprised you remembered that... But you know what, maybe it'll keep Mom from killing you when she finds out you got a tattoo," Laney replied.

"I decided I'm gonna tell her right before you go to therapy—."

"Wait, no, don't do that. I just remembered I gave you my fucking ID. She's gonna be pissed at me too," Laney interrupted, "Shit. Mom can never find out about that tattoo ever. Or I literally will kill you, and I mean that."

"Oh, I found my ID. So, I didn't have to use yours. I had to tell the girl who did it that my older brother scheduled it for me," Conner laughed, "I think she bought it. What are you doing?"

"I'm supposed to be helping Jason make dinner. I'm having dinner with his parents at his apartment... I'll call you back later—."

"Or I can just stop by your place—."

"I'm staying over Jason's," Laney replied, "But I'll call you back if you want me to."

"No, I'm good. Have fun at Jason's. I'll see you Friday when Mom comes back," Conner answered. Laney smiled.

"Okay, now... But that makes you sound like you're staying the weekend with Mom and me—."

"Love you, mean it!" Conner interrupted before hanging up.

"I hate when he does that," Laney whispered before going back to Jason's apartment.

Jason was at the stove, opening up cans of ravioli. "Do you like living alone?" Natalia asked.

"Sometimes I do," Jason replied. Laney came over and tapped Jason's arm.

"Do you want me to do anything else?" Laney whispered in his ear.

"Do you think we should tell them?" Jason asked. Laney smiled. "I think so too." Laney kissed him on the cheek.

"What's going on?" Bruce asked.

"Turns out Lane and I like each other, like a whole lot. He's my boyfriend," Jason smiled, "He's finally my boyfriend."

"I like the sound of that... Jason's boyfriend," Laney whispered.

[whovianwatchingstartrek]

A Whovian Watches Star Trek for the First Time: Part 061 - Baby Trip

Star Trek: Enterprise - Season 3 Episode 10 - Similitude

So the cold open of this one was shock to me. Trips funeral was not something I was definitely expecting to see when I put on the episode. Thankfully, after the episode does jump back two weeks, so they didn't kill off a member of the core cast off screen.

So Trip doing another neuro-pressure season with T'Pol, and when they're called over to man their stations. Enterprise is suffering a lot of engine problems, and an explosion in the engine takes Trip out of commission. Because Trip is unconscious Phloxx suggests growing a clone for a partial transplant purposes, and that may be Trip's only chance to survive. Archer approves, but is bothered with the ethics of it. The moment cloning got brought up, I figured out the opening was probably a switcheroo, and that the body would be the clone, not the original Trip.

Whether growing clones for the sole purpose of medical transplants is a concept and analogy for bodily autonomy almost as old as Sci-Fi itself, so I was really interested to see how the episode would tackle it.

Phlox being a really good dad is really wholesome, I loved his scenes with Baby Sim in the montage of him growing up. Apparently Sim can even access Trip's memories too. Sim is entirely identical to Trip in every way. We also got to a bit of Archer's parenting style while Telling Sim about his purpose. The actor who played Sim as a kid also did a pretty good job at portraying a subtle kind of sadness at the realisation that he's a clone.

It was really interesting to see Trip and T'pol relationship pushed forward even with Trip out of commission, and having Sim basically confess love on Trip's behalf is a unique kind of development. Sim has all of Trip's memories, but Trip doesn't have Sim's, he has no idea this conversation happened. He even gets a kiss from T'Pol at the end which is more process than anyone else the show has tried to set her up with has made.

After a scene where Sim saves enterprise from a predicament, Phlox figures out that Sim won't survive the transplant. Archer and Phlox need to chose between Sim and Trip, and the episode really starts digging into it's premise

Like I said early, this kind of concept is really common for Sci-Fi, especially when cloning is involved, because it is a really good question explore bodily autonomy, the definition of humanity and a lot of other really interesting ideas. Doctor Who's done it a few times, it wouldn't surprise me if the other Star Treks have done similar plot lines, you could argue it goes right back to the birth of Sci-Fi as a genre with Frankenstein. This episode does it really well, and it balances the issues of Sim's humanity and his bodily autonomy really well. I was expecting it to focus on one topic or the other, but that balance really hit. I wish we could have spent a bit more time on it, but, but episodes have time limits.

Archer is dead set on completing the procedure, so Sim starts locking down the ship, to run away, then realised he doesn't have anywhere to go. In the end, Sim agrees to the procedure, and honestly it's really sad. The only reason he agreed was because there wasn't anything else for him. His final scenes were heart-breaking. And I'm really glad we didn't see the original trip wake up after the surgery, it allowed Sim's death to be Sim's death.

This was a really good episode. I'd put it as one of the best so far, this one hit hard.